


Offer and Claim

by Janice_Lester



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, First Time, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-13
Updated: 2011-09-13
Packaged: 2017-11-27 05:27:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/658479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janice_Lester/pseuds/Janice_Lester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Millionaire Misha Collins has decided to settle down.  He's an unusual Alpha, and winds up taking shy,  naïve Omega Jared under his wing and into his heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Offer and Claim

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a single-line extra for [](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/profile)[kink_bingo](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/), to hit the kinks "service", "virginity/celibacy", "vanilla kink [my wildcard]", "writing on the body", and "worship". Contemporary AU, ie set ~2011. Features human knotting, and Alpha/Omega dynamics. Misha's age isn't specified, and based on real life dates he ought to be around 26, but I'm picturing him being at least a dozen years older than Jared, who's 18. Biting, claiming, and possessiveness also feature. Bottom!Jared. mpreg. This is the schmoopy end of the knotting trope, folks. :-) Beta'd by [](http://vee-dub.livejournal.com/profile)[vee_dub](http://vee-dub.livejournal.com/).

 

“There’s something I really need to ask you.”

The kid sounds anxious but determined, and Misha takes the opportunity afforded by a random act of traffic god kindness to slip off the road into a rest area. He cuts the motor, adjusts the Bluetooth earpiece in his ear. Leans back more comfortably in the driver’s seat. “Okay. Not driving anymore. You have my full attention.”

Jared’s next breath is audible and shaky. “Okay. Listen, I… School’s nearly over, and I really need to know if you’re going to make an offer for me.”

“Hell, yes, I’m going to make an offer!” Misha replies instantly. Laughter tries to bubble up from somewhere, graceless and self-deprecating. “Started drafting it weeks ago.” He watches a sleek silver car go by, then a red one. Scratches idly at his stubble. “I just wanted us to get to know each other without the spectre of money complicating things, you know? I wanted you to like me for me.”

Jared laughs, but it’s not a laugh that makes anything crumple in Misha’s chest. Quite the opposite. It feels like a balloon expanding, fills him with hope.

“Misha,” Jared says when he’s recovered. “I’ve refused to see anyone else. And I’ve had requests, man.” A pause, and Misha can almost swear he _hears_ that frown. “I kinda can’t believe how many requests. It’s—I’m as sure as I can be. The idea of meeting with other Alphas pisses me off. Rubs me completely the wrong way. It’s you, Misha. It’s meant to be you. Can’t you—can’t you feel it?”

Misha rubs at his eyes, which are threatening tears. Breathes in, an unexpectedly wet sniff. “I thought so at that stupid masquerade ball, the first time I caught a whiff of you. I’ve been sure since that first meeting where you alternated between talking a mile a minute and completely clamming up. You’ll have a full formal offer by tonight, Jared, I promise.”

“Thanks. But all I really need to see is that you want me and can afford to keep me.”

Misha blinks. “In that case, let me call my secretary, and you’ll have something within the hour.”

“God,” Jared mutters. “I must be insane, to be so damn excited about an email.”

Misha chuckles and wishes he was there to hold him, reassure him. “This is all going to work out perfectly, you’ll see.”

“Not sure that’s possible, for anyone. So I’m just going to hope it works out _well_.”

“I believe we can compromise on ‘well’. I think I’d like to make that call now. But I’ll be in touch, Jared. And, obviously, you have my number.”

“Yeah. Hey, Misha?”

“Jared?”

“Sometimes my friends call me Jay. I think I’d like it if you did too, sometimes. If you wanted.”

***

Jared formally accepts his offer so fast Misha has difficulty believing he did more than skim-read the text and glance at the bank statements. The businessman in Misha tuts at this, but the romantic rejoices. Jared wants him, irrespective of his income or future prospects.

So…

He has a mate. A stunning young Omega, tall and coltish and sort of deliciously awkward. Sharp as a tack and with a right royal sense of humour if only you can dig past the shyness.

They can be good together, Misha knows. And he hopes he can be good for Jared, too. Help him realise some of that myriad potential that schools for Omegas have no time for among all that training to be docile and receptive, decorative and charming, passionate and fecund. He hopes it won’t take too long before Jared starts unlearning those lessons and truly being himself again. Misha already knows he’s crazy about that secret Jared who appears sometimes, such as in random phone calls making quiet demands.

On a whim, he texts Sasha:

_~About to settle down with a nice Omega. Be proud of yr bro, now properly domesticated!~_

He doesn’t get a response for more than an hour, but when he does it’s four linked messages full of love, disbelief, and congratulations.

When he finally makes it home, Misha’s surprised at how empty the house suddenly feels, as if he’s somehow already added Jared’s name to his mental list of its occupants.

***

When the time comes, Misha’s very glad he accepted his friend Sebastian’s advice and went out to Texas to collect Jared. Because although the kid is chirpy enough as they leave the school grounds with his surprisingly small number of cases, and although he chatters away happily in the rental car as Misha heads for the airport, he’s a nervous wreck by the time they are actually seated on the plane.

“Haven’t flown before, huh?” Misha asks, and takes his hand.

Jared shakes his head, squeezing slightly.

“Just try to relax. And let me know if you want help with that. I’ve never tried to influence you before, but I think I could manage a bit of calm if you needed it.”

Jared just looks at him with those big eyes. They seem almost amber in this light. Then he leans over, awkwardly working around their joined hands and the seat arm between them, plants a soft kiss on Misha’s cheek. Lingers a moment, sniffing, before pulling back. “That’s sweet, controlling your scent for me. Can’t be easy, either.”

“Sometimes it isn’t. But I needed your decision to be your decision.”

Jared’s smile is a little tight, but it’s there. “Do what you need to. But just… why not distract me, to begin with? Tell me about my n-new home?”

So Misha does that. Tells him about the summer he took off work to build that house, the year he made his first clear million dollars. Tells him how he haggled and bargained over every piece of timber, every colourful roof tile. About how well a few pulleys can compensate for the lack of human assistance. About how cosy the house feels to him, familiar, safe, imbued with so much of his own hard work and positive feelings.

It doesn’t stop Jared crushing his hand white in the run-up to takeoff, or stop him squeaking at that first swoop in the stomach that means they’ve left the ground. But after that Jared is still listening, even smiling a little, so Misha thinks it was a good plan.

Four hours later, Jared’s asleep. Business Class facilities aren’t quite spacious enough to make it look comfortable for a young man Jared’s size, but he’s definitely asleep. Misha focuses on exuding a calm, lethargic scent in the hope of keeping Jared asleep through landing.

***

The drive home is uneventful. Jared mainly looks out the window and marvels—occasionally aloud—about being in another state for the first time in his life.

“We can get a vacation place in Texas, if you want to spend some time there,” Misha offers.

Jared’s head turns sharply towards him. “Does that mean you’re, um, like really rich?”

Misha laughs. “I do okay. I acquire businesses based on their people, not their profit margins, and that means I have a loyal little empire. That’s valuable to me, and productive too.”

“What kind of businesses?”

“Every kind. Every nutty thing you can imagine. I have hotdog stand contractors working for me, I have a small bookstore chain. I have an eco-conscious landscaping company, a costume store, a cake-decorating franchise. A dive school, a three-woman proof-reading service, a piano studio. All sorts, really. I like the random. And I like knowing that whatever new thing I might get interested in, someone in my operation already has the know-how.”

“Awesome,” Jared says. “My dad would say that’s a ‘diverse investment strategy’. Or something.”

It’s the first time Jared’s volunteered even that much information about his family, and Misha isn’t sure what to do with it. Try to fan the flames of that trust, or just gratefully accept what he’s been given?

“Most people just call it crazy, I think. You wanna tell me a little about your folks, or would it be so boring I’d fall asleep at the wheel?”

Jared snorts. “There’s not much to tell. I haven’t spoken to them in years. Dad’s an accountant. Mom’s a teacher who freaked out when she realised I’m not as… flexible as most Os. All the tests said I’d never settle down with a woman. Dad took full advantage of that, made sure to get me into the kind of school where preppy male millionaires shop for boys. You know, I don’t get how Mom has no problem with Alphas who only like their own sex. How can it be just a quirk if you only like men, but it’s a failing if _I_ do?”

“Dunno. Bigotry seldom makes sense. I think that’s kinda in the definition somewhere.” He glances sideways at Jared, who merely gives a moody shrug. “I _am_ a millionaire, you know,” Misha adds. “Though I totally fail at the preppy part.” He can feel Jared’s gaze raking over him then, taking in the low-slung jeans, the little faded pastel t-shirt, the ancient plaid over-shirt.

“Yeah, you kinda do.” A thrumming pause. “Like that about you.”

“Uh huh,” Misha murmurs, signalling as the familiar freeway exit approaches. “Anything else you like about me?”

“Your size,” Jared says, and then taps his fingers thoughtfully on the door handle. “I mean… it’s weird being taller than you, it feels as if that’s somehow not how it should be? But then I look at you, and…” his hands wave in an elegant demonstration of the difficulty of finding words. “You’re just right. And I like your hair. And your ass. And how you never seem to shave before you come see me. I like your cheekbones. Sometimes I wonder how they’d look when you, you know.”

Misha glances at him. Swallows. “Guess you’ll find out, sooner or later. I don’t have much of the stereotypical Alph temper, but of course that’s not the only time the markings show.”

“Sex?” Jared whispers.

Misha resolves just to be honest and straightforward. “Sometimes. If I’m very frustrated, or if what I’m doing emphasises a power differential with the other guy. Or if I want it to.”

“So, uh—” he clears his throat. “When—when the knot—”

“Yeah. Then. Though I’ve never been with an Omega before, I suppose it could all be a zillion times more intense with you.”

“Before—before they sent me away to school, there was this neighbour kid, Chad. He was Alpha, a few years older, and his lines would redden up anytime he looked at me. He was so damn embarrassed about it that we never talked about it. Didn’t really get until I started at the Omega school that that wasn’t normal Alpha behaviour.”

“Perhaps you bring out the secret hidden gentleman in each of us?” Misha suggests softly, taking a right turn that puts them almost within sight of home.

“Not all of you. I’ve been menaced, just like every other O.”

“Mm. We can be assholes, especially in groups. It’s like… there’s this collective sense of entitlement that bubbles up from somewhere. And if you don’t want to give in to it, all you can really do is walk away. I’ve never injured an Omega, Jared. Trust me when I tell you I never ever want to.”

Jared’s hand is on his arm then, just briefly. Silence falls, but it’s not uncomfortable and it doesn’t last long, because Misha’s just turning into his drive and here they are.

“It’s not a mansion,” Jared says, bending low in his seat so he can look out the window at the little two-storey house. He doesn’t seem disappointed, just surprised.

Misha parks neatly, then jumps out of the car with a groan of relief as his legs stretch out after a long day of travelling. “Never been in a mansion that felt like a home, you know? That felt like anyone really lived there. So an ordinary house suits me just fine.” He unlocks the back, and they divide Jared’s cases between them without needing to speak.

“So, can I carry you across the threshold?” The kid’s grin is fucking infectious.

Misha thinks about that image all the way to the front porch. Where he puts down his burdens, unlocks and pushes open the door, and holds out his arms to his Omega.

Jared’s body is warm and strong, and Misha’s surprised how safe he feels being hoisted up and carried inside. There’s a moment, just a moment, after Misha’s done sliding down Jared’s body till his feet find the floor, where uncertainty reigns. And then Jared’s hand finds Misha’s nape, his big thumb strokes over Misha’s chin, and he leans down…

This kiss is firm and slow, and Misha goes with it. Allows himself to be kissed. Allows Jared’s tongue to push its way in.

And then he knows. Understands how to play this, how to get them to the place he wants them to be without coercion, without pheromonal influence, without haste or frustration. He kisses Jared back and lets himself enjoy.

“Mmm,” Jared says, as he’s pulling away, his thumb tip swiping at some stray saliva at the corner of Misha’s mouth. “You _are_ just the right size.”

Misha slaps his ass, reaches for the nearest abandoned suitcase. “Come on,” he says. “Let me give you the tour.”

***

Misha grills steaks for dinner, and gets to enjoy the sight of Jared’s rapturous expression as he downs large amounts of food. Idly, he wonders whether the kid will end up towering over him; there’s a couple inches’ height difference already, and he kinda doubts that at eighteen Jared’s already done growing.

After dinner, they take the fruit bowl out to the lounge, find some old reruns of _The Simpsons_ on TV. Misha takes one end of the couch and tries to make his body language open, inviting. Sure enough, Jared gradually ventures closer and closer, until eventually he’s sitting an inch shy of hip to hip. He can sense the anxiety, the uncertainty, the confusion, but he can also sense that Jared wants this, wants him. An odd sort of tension tingles in the air, tempting Misha to pounce. Instead, he slips his arm across Jared’s shoulders. Jared sighs a happy sort of sigh, wriggles the tiniest bit closer. So they watch old cartoons, eat fruit, and stay close. It’s more or less a perfect evening, in Misha’s book.

Later on, there’s an action movie, and Jared stretches out across the couch, his torso on Misha’s lap and his head on the couch arm. Misha pets him idly, until Jared captures his hand and holds it.

He gave Jared the spiel earlier, about how his new room is _his_ room and all he needs do if he wants to be alone is to go in there and close the door (same with Misha and his workroom), and he was very clear about not expecting Jared to sleep with him tonight, or any night when they’re not both feeling it. But he’s just put aside his book and is reaching out to switch off his reading lamp when Jared appears in the doorway in his pyjamas.

For a long moment, they just stare at each other. Then Jared visibly straightens his posture, and pads deliberately into the room. Misha tugs up the covers on the empty side of the bed, and Jared clambers in.

“Beginning to wish there was a rulebook for this stuff.”

Misha pauses in the process of snuggling up against Jared’s back. “What a futile wish! You must know I’d only burn it and dance naked on the ashes.”

Jared sighs, noticeably relaxing a little. “Yeah, I guess. I just… There’s so much crap we have to work out. Talk about. Negotiate. All seems suddenly kinda daunting.”

Misha pats him on the stomach in what he hopes is a reassuring way. “Let’s do the short version, then. What’s weighing most on your mind?”

Jared goes still and seems distinctly disinclined to answer.

“Okay. Well, then, I’m gonna guess ‘sex’. Bluntly, Jay, I don’t think it’s gonna be a problem. There’s plenty of attraction here, and it’s mutual. But I have no plans to rush you into anything. We can go at your pace. You just need to understand that until you’re officially Claimed, I’m going to be antsy about you going out alone. If you want to get a job or take some college classes, I may give in to paranoia and hire a bodyguard for you.”

He registers that he’s said something Jared wasn’t expecting, something that’s pulled the kid up short, but he can’t for the life of him decide just what it was that made him briefly squirm like that.

“Jay? Something I said?”

“If I want to get a job or go to college?” Jared repeats, sounding astonished. “That—that would be okay with you?”

Misha frowns. “Well, if you’d rather just stay home and do housekeepy homebody type things, that would be fine, too.”

Jared moves, pushing out of his arms, and Misha wriggles back a little, disheartened. But Jared only rolls to face him, hooks a leg over Misha’s, and kisses him, a soft, chaste peck on the lips. “I didn’t know it was a possibility,” he says slowly. “I thought that was it, you get hitched to your Alpha, you keep house and do crafty things and have babies. I’ve never met an Omega who had a job. Are you sure it’s allowed?”

Misha does his very best to keep his tone and expression from betraying his horror. “Of course it’s allowed.” He chucks Jared beneath the chin. “One of my VPs is Omega, and I could introduce you to half a dozen more elsewhere in the organisation.” That school back in Texas, he thinks sourly, is not going to be getting the large donation it expects from Misha Collins on the occasion of his marriage.

“Oh,” Jared says, and chews his lower lip a while. “Have you—um, I mean, if it’s okay for me to ask—”

“Jared, you’re welcome to ask me whatever you like. There are precious few things about me I wouldn’t think you’re entitled to know. Just ask, and you’ll see I don’t bite.”

“Okay.” He takes in a deep breath, lets it out in a rush with the words on top. “Have you had a lot of sex?”

“Hmm. I guess that depends how you define a lot? I’ve had enough that I don’t feel deprived. I know my way around a man’s body. Or a woman’s. I know what I like, and I know how to go about discovering what a new partner likes. Does that answer the question?”

“You know I’ve never actually—” he waves a hand “—with, uh, penetration?”

“That was my assumption, yes. It’s not a problem. And you kiss well, though whether that’s practice or natural talent I wouldn’t dare venture to guess.”

Jared seems to find something cheeky in his tone, because he ducks his head and, moments later, appears to be blushing. “You said we can go slow, right?”

“Yup. We can, and I think we probably should. But realistically, you’re eighteen and I know you could suffer a hormonal storm and jump me any time.” He smiles sweetly at Jared’s astounded look. “Now come on, we should sleep. Tell me one of your gigantic arms can reach the lamp so I don’t have to move.”

Jared kisses him on the nose, then demonstrates that he can in fact reach to switch off the lamp. In the darkness, Misha’s pleasantly aware of him, his regular breathing, his warmth, the weight of his encircling leg and arm. It feels so good he wants to cry. It’s not a sexual feeling, and his dick seems content to doze. It’s just an undeniable _rightness_ that comes with Jared being close by.

Misha doesn’t sleep well, but that’s at least partly because it’s so damn nice to listen to the soft, snuffly snores of the boy in his arms. He’s not sure what he’s done in his life to deserve all this, but he’s damn sure he can get used to it.

***

Misha wakes to morning wood that isn’t his own butting up against his thigh. It’s nice, nicer still when he murmurs Jared’s name and sleepy eyes blink blearily at him. “You’re awake, hmm?”

“More or less.” He seems to become aware of what he’s doing, because his hips abruptly stop their rocking.

“You wanna get off? It’s your call.”

“Um, how would we do that?”

Misha moves to align them better, getting a groan from Jared. “We could just hump together, like this. Or I could jerk you. Just under the covers like this. Does that appeal?”

“God, yes,” Jared says, hissing through his teeth.

“Wriggle out of your PJs for me,” Misha directs, already squirming away to grab the lube from the nightstand. He warms some in his palm a moment, then reaches under the covers until he finds Jared’s big, hard, hot cock and wraps his hand around it, eliciting a guttural moan. Jared’s hips rock to follow each stroke, and it’s not long at all before they have a good rhythm going and Jared’s staring at Misha in the indifferent morning light, panting. It’s hard to imagine anything better.

And then Jared’s big paw cups Misha’s hard dick through his boxers. Misha groans and grinds into the touch.

“All right if I…?”

“Fuck, yes, Jay, _anything_.”

Jared lifts Misha’s cock free of his boxers with reverent care, then scrabbles about for the lube bottle. Misha slows his strokes to aid concentration until the blessed moment when they’re both—yeah. He whines, leans in for a kiss, too happy to give a damn about morning breath. Jared’s strokes are firm, his fingers a little clumsy, his technique far from subtle. It’s fantastic. Misha knows he’s leaking approving, exulting pheromones, but doesn’t think that’s likely to damage their relationship any.

Jared comes first, and the scent of that, combined with the thoughtful, if haphazard, way he continues to work Misha’s dick, is enough to have Misha following in short order.

“Wow,” Jared says, when they’ve recovered enough to manage a cursory cleanup with tissues. “Just… wow.”

Misha beams and kisses his cheek.

“So it doesn’t, uh, knot unless it’s actually _in_ someone?”

Misha blinks. Jared is uncertain about the basic mechanics of sex with an Alpha? Once again he finds himself suppressing uncharitable remarks about the quality of instruction being offered at that awful Omega academy. “Nope. There’d be no point. I’ve heard that Alpha dicks can get confused in some circumstances, but there’s always a bit of warning so you can cool down if necessary. You want to luxuriate in the big shower? I can use the other bathroom.”

“We could, um, share if you wanted?”

“Let’s stick to the baby steps. Seeing you naked and wet is a treat I can wait for.” He kisses Jared’s forehead, then pulls his boxers back up beneath the covers. Rolls away, gets up out of bed and leaves the room without a backwards glance.

***

Showing Jared around his little corner of corporate America is surprisingly enjoyable and doesn’t make him feel unpleasantly head-bloated and smug. Jared seems genuinely interested, and enjoys posing behind Misha’s desk when they make it far enough up the building for that.

They eat lunch with the beautiful people, and the usually bashful Jensen is making clear overtures of friendship towards Jared by the end of the meal.

“I like them,” Jared confides afterwards. “Daneel seems like just the sort of woman my mama would have _loved_ me to bring home. She scares me a little. But Jensen’s cool.”

“Yeah. You should take him up on that invitation.”

“Think I will, yeah. So, what’s next on the itinerary?”

“Some shopping,” Misha says, smothering a yawn. “Seems like you have mostly generic school clothes. I’d rather you dressed how you felt, and I doubt you feel generic.”

Jared blushes and squirms until Misha crumples and points out that once their seven day change-of-mind window has passed Jared will start receiving his guaranteed Omega income and can pay him back. Also on that day, of course, Misha will have to start paying the Omega Support Tax he’ll pay for the rest of his natural life, as all Alphas who take on Omegas do—a community promise that no matter what might happen to any given couple, Alphas collectively will always support Omegas collectively. This cheers Jared up, though it leaves Misha feeling awkward. Apparently, providing well for Jared means more to him than he realised, and he doesn’t need to be legislated into doing it. But all the same, it’s a good thing that times have changed, that Omegas are no longer seen as effectively property, mere breeding stock. Looking at Jared, it’s hard to believe anyone could ever have thought that way. But Misha paid attention in history class.

He takes Jared’s hand in his as they head for the nearest department store, and Jared smiles as they fall easily into step.

***

“I had assumed that I’d take you back to Texas for the seventh day, do the meet the folks thing.” They’re lying together on the couch, sweaty and come-smeared and still mostly dressed. He’d like to say he’s just introduced Jared to the pleasures of frot, but really it’s more like Jared discovered those pleasures all on his own while lying over Misha and grinding against him. “But it turns out you don’t like flying, and you’ve not said a single word about wanting to see your family again.”

“I don’t especially want to see my parents. But my brother and sister, yeah, it would be nice to see them again. Either get closure or find out that they do actually still want to know me.”

“Well, how about I send them a couple plane tickets? Put them up in a nice hotel in town?”

Jared nods slowly, thoughtful. Then frowns. “What about—I’m sure my dad didn’t do his best to make sure I’d land a millionaire just out of the goodness of his heart. He must’ve thought there’d be something in it for him.”

Misha sighs and tugs him closer, kisses Jared’s big forehead. “Traditionally, I’d make a sizeable cash donation to the school, and give a substantial gift to your folks. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’ve said a few things that make me seriously doubt the quality of teaching and the general ethics of that school. I’m disinclined to give them anything. And given how you feel about your parents…” He shrugs. “Perhaps if everything’s good with your siblings, I can appease tradition by giving _them_ something?”

“Something they can’t be obliged to share with mom and dad?” Jared says slowly. “Like college tuition—or, or a house in trust?”

Misha strokes a thumb across those warm lips. Smiles. “I like the way you think.” And he kisses him, soft and unhurried.

***

He gives Jared head for the first time the morning they’re due to meet up with Megan and Jeff Padalecki. Jared stares down at him from his position perched on the very edge of the bed with this expression of utter disbelief, like it’s simply incomprehensible that anything could possibly feel this good. Well, that certainly does wonders for Misha’s ego. He tongues at Jared’s slit until he earns a whine, then sucks down as much of that thick cock as he can before sucking hard as he pulls all the way up again. Jared forces out a choked little warning, and that’s that, he’s coming. Misha does his best to catch some on his tongue so he can taste it before swallowing it all happily down.

Jared has gone breathy and non-verbal, but his pleasure and surprise and gratitude are all plainly there in his eyes, his cheeks, the way he holds his mouth.

“Come on,” Misha says, rising. “Shower time.”

***

Megan is lovely, very much a young lady, good manners and a bright, easy smile. It’s clear she no longer feels like she knows Jared, having been ten or eleven when he went away and having had no contact except occasional letters since, but she’s breezy and pleasant and happy for him nonetheless. And _very_ excited about a trip across the country.

Jeff is at least six foot five, though he stoops to hide it, and Misha wonders again how long before Jared’s done growing. The first thing Jeff does when they meet in the hotel lobby is pull Jared in for a close, manly hug. “Dude,” he says. “Long time. You got big!”

“Look at you, man. I knew you were gonna be tall, but _this?_ Wow.”

Jeff ruffles Jared’s hair as he lets him go, turns his attention to Misha. Their handshake is formal at first, then more relaxed as Jeff really looks at him. “I can see you’re taking good care of my brother. You mind giving us a bit of a tour before we head to the restaurant for lunch? Megie and I, we’re not used to the big city.”

There’s something charming about Jeff, Misha decides. Perhaps it’s the fact that he’s completely lacking in any form of conscious charm. He’s a bit blunt, a bit raucous. Speaks his mind when it would be wiser to preserve a tactful silence. Laughs loudly. Takes liberties with nicknames. He’s completely free in his own skin.

“So what do you do, Jeff?” Jared asks eventually, while they’re strolling the waterfront, like he thinks it’s something he should know.

“I’m a student. Pre-med. Just got a semester to go, then I’ll be a medical student.”

“Hey, that’s awesome!” Jared offers a very high five. “Last I heard, you were still on the CPA plan.”

“Yeah, that. Got wasted one spring break, had an epiphany. Realised that although it’s a great idea to plan for a future that features you gainfully employed, it’s really better to do that in a field you actually enjoy.”

“Was Dad real disappointed?”

“A little, I think. But there’s no pouting at starting pay for doctors fresh from good colleges. Now I just have to stop him setting his sights on Megie as The Next Accountant In the Family.”

“Fat chance,” she says. “I’m terrible in math and I want to be a journalist.”

It’s a beautiful day, and Misha can’t get enough of the joy on Jared’s face as he catches up with his siblings after all these years. He’s definitely going to do his part to help them stay in touch.

Jeff takes him aside later while the other two are dawdling over small change they’re dropping in the hotel’s decorative wishing well. “I can see he’s happy. Seems like you’re prepared to do what you can to keep it that way. So I’ll spare you the awkward threats of pain and violence if you ever hurt him.”

“Thanks,” Misha says. “We can just take them as read.”

Jeff smiles, scratches at the back of his neck. “Just—take this insight, for whatever it’s worth after all this time, okay? Jared is a giant puppy. He’s predisposed to happiness and he’s very, very loyal. If anything, he’s loyal to a fault. He’ll ignore warning signs and he’ll put the interests of the people he loves consistently above his own. So if someone is hurting him, you’re the one who needs to notice that and take steps, even if it’s you. Because he’ll apologise for those who hurt him until he’s blue in the face. Believe me, I had to scare off more than one complete tool for Jared’s sake. Even now, I bet he won’t hear a bad word said against our Mom, and she was really hard on him. So look after him.”

Misha doesn’t know what to say to that, so instead of speaking he lets his Alpha markings come up bright on his cheeks, looks Jeff Padalecki straight in the eye, then deliberately lowers his head. Jeff isn’t an Alpha, doesn’t have the instincts, but when his breath audibly catches Misha knows the gesture has been understood.

“Glad we had this little chat,” Jeff says, and offers a hug, which Misha accepts gratefully. “And you are so, so fucking welcome to the family, man.”

That hadn’t been the intended purpose of this day, but even so Misha can’t shake the glow that comes with that acceptance.

“You’re quiet,” Jared observes, as they’re driving home after farewells of the hopeful rather than heart-wrenching type.

“I am serene,” Misha agrees.

Jared’s hand lands on his thigh, squeezes once before slipping away. “I, uh, think this is gonna work out real good. I’m so glad you noticed me.”

“Me too. Wasn’t the only one, though, was I?”

The fingers on his thigh stroke gently, as if to soothe. “There were others. But I just… wanted them all to leave me the hell alone. One of my teachers said that can happen, it’s a normal response. But all the other kids I spoke to, for them it was more like… instant recognition, yeah, that’s him. They recognised the right Alpha. I didn’t. I just knew all the _other_ Alphas were wrong. Tell you the truth, some of my classmates seemed almost brainwashed after they met their Alphas. Instant religious-type devotion to this new person. But I was aware of making a choice. I could have kept looking. But I wanted it to be you, so I chose you.”

“Good,” Misha says. “I want you to have choices. That's what the Omega tax and support is all about, so you can afford to leave me if you need to."

"That won't happen," Jared says, and Misha dares to believe him.

"So, you got any ideas for what I can give Jeff and Megan as a de facto bride price?”

***

They’re about two months in when Jared starts to get obviously curious about what it would be like to get fucked. It seems a logical progression. Their sex life has branched out into a lot of fun areas, Jared’s learned to give a passable blowjob, they’re pretty comfortable with each other’s bodies, and although the disbelief is gradually melting away Jared’s obvious sense of wonder remains.

“Do you think—” Jared begins one night, and then swallows hard. “Do you think you could use your fingers back there, while you—?”

Misha kisses him, hard and encouraging, for that, and when Jared comes fifteen minutes later it’s with his dick down Misha’s throat and two fingers in his ass.

And there begins Misha’s stalling, because something in him isn’t ready to knot Jared yet. Isn’t ready to take that final step, even though legally their lives are already bound together and all a knot and a Claim would mean is that any Alpha caught taking liberties with Jared would lack the ability to employ the egregious partial defence that he didn’t know Jared was taken. But mainly, if he’s honest with himself, it’s that the one-sidedness of their current relations really work for him. He likes servicing Jared, likes teaching him to give and receive new pleasures. Likes pleasing him. Likes being on his knees for him. Likes that Jared’s reciprocation is typically a hazy afterthought. But when Misha fucks him, the pleasure will be inescapably mutual, and quite possibly rather more of it will come his way than Jared’s. And although he most definitely aches to get Jared under him, to feel Jared’s ass tremble and clutch around the obscene stretch of his knot, he’s not sure he can give up this other thing for it.

So he distracts them both with mouth and hands and delicious, wonderful frot, and does his best to ignore Jared’s increasingly unsubtle hints that he’s ready to try getting fucked.

***

Mid-November sees them at the Boston house, which is big and old and carries a perpetual air of dilapidated grandeur, preparing for the arrival of Misha’s family for Thanksgiving. There are stuffy disused rooms to be opened up and aired, carpets to be cleaned, beds to be made, and Misha hates paying strangers to do that stuff. Much more pleasant to do it himself, especially with Jared so willing to help. And there are surprisingly good conversations to be had over furniture polish, scuffed jeans and rolled-up sleeves.

“I like working in that little shop,” Jared tells him. “Most of the time, anyway. Some customers are just… it’s like they were created just to suck all the life and joy out of my day, you know? But I’m thinking I might look for something else. Maybe review my college options again. Nothing felt right the last time.”

“There’s no rush. And also no rules saying you can’t just do whatever you find fun. Learn the guitar. Take up acting. Or pottery. Or skydiving.”

Jared snorts. “Yeah, no.”

Misha continues making sporadic random suggestions for the next few hours, until Jared snaps at him to stop it. Well, actually he doesn’t stop even then. Not until Jared backs up the demand by grabbing him and kissing him senseless.

They’re two days out from Thanksgiving when Misha finally comes to understand why Jared’s so antsy.

He’s innocently perched atop the kitchen counter, reading through and discarding much of a huge stack of turkey recipes printed out off the internet when Jared comes in, grumbling and sweaty after a run. Misha admires the view as Jared grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and downs half of it in about three gulps before swiping the back of one hairy forearm across his mouth. Elsewhere in the house, sounds of doors being closed in sequence suggest that Cliff, Jared’s bodyguard, is heading for a shower after the run he would of course have been obliged to go along on.

“So, who all is coming again?”

Misha stops swinging his legs in order to think more clearly. “My brother, Sasha, plus wife and kid. Dani, my baby sister. She’s about your sister’s age. Various assorted cousins and their partners. A few old friends who are family in everything but blood. Jensen and Daneel, for instance. Possibly an uncle or two.”

“Are they all Betas?”

Misha shakes his head. “I doubt it. Why?”

Jared manages to give an exceptionally potent impression of fidgeting while standing completely still. “And not all Betas are even scent-blind, right?”

“That’s right,” Misha agrees, since clearly the entirety of his role in this conversation is to make noises at appropriate intervals so Jared doesn’t feel as if he’s merely talking to himself.

“Well,” Jared says, “it kinda bugs me to think that your family might know.” His hand comes up absently to smooth over his throat. “That they could smell that you haven’t Cl—Claimed me. Six months together, and they’ll know I’m virtually still a virgin.” And he stares at Misha then, eyes flashing with a mix of challenge and something darker, more complex.

It’s not the best, most mature reason anyone’s ever come up with for having sex. But Misha knows it isn’t Jared’s only reason, that it’s really more like this is an excuse. Thanksgiving supplies a deadline, and that’s the impetus for Jared to speak up at last. To ask. If he is asking.

“Are you asking?” Misha says softly. “Be very clear.”

Jared’s long legs eat up the distance between them in two strides. Then he’s there, hands on Misha’s thighs, water bottle abandoned, breath hot on Misha’s cheek and the scent of his sweat very, very enticing. “I want you to fuck me, Misha. I’ve been wanting it a long time, and I promise you I’m ready to try it. And I want to be wearing the mark of your Claim by the time your family starts getting here. Please, Misha. Take me to bed tonight and fuck me and knot me and just fucking _Claim_ me. Prove that I’m yours.”

 _I’m yours._ Heat scores through him, and for an instant the whole world seems to tilt alarmingly to the left. “Okay,” Misha says, and kisses him quickly on the nose. “You know how to get ready so you’re not all anxious about hygiene when the time comes?”

Jared nods rapidly, clearly keen not to have _that_ conversation.

“Tonight, then, if all goes well.” Something dark and possessive curls into existence in his belly, making him shiver. His dick lurches to attention, and it’s suddenly difficult to think clearly about anything else but taking Jared, holding him down, filling him up….

Something tickles across his cheeks, and Misha forces himself to focus. Jared’s thumbs. Jared’s thumbs skating gently back and forth over his cheeks.

Highlighting his Alpha colours.

Misha swallows.

“So pretty,” Jared says, and kisses one cheek, then the other. A tangle of uncertainty Misha hadn’t been aware of carrying loosens at this obvious lack of fear.

***

Misha does several things in preparation for their big night. He makes sure there are fresh sheets on hand, condoms and lube and cleanup supplies on the nightstand. He lugs in the largest free-standing mirror he can find, because common sense warns him that no matter his intentions he’s likely to end up giving in to instinct and taking Jared on all fours, but hopefully the mirror will compensate for any loss of intimacy Jared might feel at not being face to face. Then he meditates for an hour, doing his best to find a calmness that will linger.

When Jared comes in he’s visibly nervous, expression shifting in and out of smiles as he looks at Misha. His big hand fumbles twice before he succeeds in locking the bedroom door. He’s sporting an erection his PJ pants have no hope of hiding, and all in all he looks more keyed-up than Misha’s ever seen him. When he comes over, the kisses he lays on Misha instead of words are artless and frantic and interspersed with murmurs of “Please, Misha, please”.

It’s so easy to give in to his urge to flip Jared beneath him and pin him neatly to the bed, his captive hard and squirming. The little gasp Jared gives as he stares tells Misha that his colour’s up, and for a moment he just lies there, allowing his young lover to look.

“Oh, God,” Jared says, and huffs an awkward laugh. “I have this—I have this _really_ fucking strong conviction that I should be rolling over and sticking my ass in the air right now.”

“We’ll get to that,” Misha promises, and kisses him with a little tooth and a lot of gusto. Jared whines and starts trying to tear their clothes off.

It’s a difficult line to walk, being Alpha enough to make this work without being Alpha enough that he won’t like himself any more. But Misha walks it. And the occasional possessive growl he can’t keep inside as he bares Jared’s body to his greedy fingers and tongue is rendered a lot less mortifying by Jared’s unfailingly positive reactions.

Misha pauses just as he’s about to take Jared’s dick into his mouth. Rethinks. “Jared?”

Jared’s grunt is all frustration and hope, and he props himself up on his elbows to look questioningly down his long body at Misha.

“I was going to suck you off now, to take the edge off. That way, you’ll be more relaxed for the penetration. But maybe that won’t be as exciting for you?”

“I wanna come with your dick in me,” Jared says stubbornly.

“You will. Either way. I promise.”

Jared’s eyelids flutter down. “How about… how about a bit of suck while you do the fingers thing? And then… oh, God, you have to do it soon, I can’t stand it…”

Misha chuckles, already reaching for the lube.

Jared grumbles and frowns when Misha doesn’t stop at two fingers, but a little extra attention paid to the head of his dick distracts him enough for the prep to continue. Four fingers and Jared _struggles_ , which brings Misha up short. “Gonna come,” he explains sheepishly, when Misha glances inquiringly up.

Well. That’s good news. He’s barely got his fingers out before Jared’s rolling over onto his elbows and knees to present. The sight is so arresting that it takes effort, and several slow deep breaths, to keep from pouncing. Instead, Misha wipes his slick hand clean, then unwraps and rolls on a heavy-duty Alpha condom. Omega fertility is notoriously unpredictable, and there’s simply no time you can be sure the chance of conceiving is small to absent. He’s ridiculously generous with the lube, so much so that he’s half expecting a truly obscene squelch when he lines up the head of his dick with Jared’s hole and slowly starts pushing in. Jared whimpers and rocks back for more, then seems to think better of it and simply holds still while Misha spears him slowly open. Something mindless and primal crows in triumph as he sinks home. _Mine,_ Misha thinks. _MINE_.

He remembers to wait a while between working his way in and actually starting to thrust, though the reasons for such care are getting hazy as instinct looms over him.

“So big,” Jared gasps, staring at their reflections in the mirror, and then _clenches_. “So huge.”

Misha growls at that, fingers digging into Jared’s hips as he withdraws a little, slides back in deep. Alters his angle and repeats until he gets a quick gasp, then a moan.

He can feel the knot forming, too soon, he’s sure. So there’s nothing for it but to reach around, grab hold of Jared’s dick and start lovingly pumping it, faster and faster as the warning tingles of imminent knotting cluster at the base of Misha’s penis. He shortens his strokes, wanting to stay deep, to have his knot form inside Jared instead of outside where he’d have to force it in wholesale. This isn’t going to be perfect, not even close, but—

“Oh, fuck!” Jared yells, coming just as the knot tightens enough to make Misha cease thrusting and just rock.

Makes sense after that to drop back onto his heels, pulling Jared with him to straddle his lap. Then he can lap up the spilled semen from his hand. And that’s all it takes to set him off, too, releasing a first lazy burst of seed into Jared’s tight heat. The knot swells to its limit, making Jared shift his weight anxiously from one thigh to the other in search of relief. Misha shushes him, runs soothing fingers over his chest, arms, belly.

“You didn’t C-Claim…”

Misha parts his hair, plants a kiss on the back of his neck. “I was a bit busy. There’s no hurry. I think it will be easier when you’re hard again. Less painful.”

Jared shrugs like he doesn’t care about pain, but doesn’t actually argue.

“This is the boring part,” Misha murmurs. “For you, anyway. I sit here and keep quietly coming every so often. You just sit there.”

“Mmm,” Jared says, and pauses to smother a yawn. “Such a hardship.” He wriggles quite deliberately, and Misha gasps as a second, only slightly more subtle wave of orgasm crests over him.

He wraps his arms around Jared’s torso, holds him close, unable to keep from rocking gently against him. “You feel good. Somehow both tight and accommodating. It’s very…” He sucks in a sudden deep, involuntary breath, and the world spins pleasantly around him. “Very nice. It’s like, beyond the physical. Spiritually good.”

Jared doesn’t laugh at him, almost as if he understands what Misha means. Instead, he curls their fingers together and carefully, so carefully, arches his spine, leans back until he can tip his head to rest on Misha’s shoulder.

They get several minutes of comfortable quiet, sweat cooling on their warm skin as they sit together, locked tight. Then Misha scents the return of his lover’s arousal, and that changes things. He lowers a hand to toy with Jared’s balls a while, some Alpha part of him very much enjoying the vulnerability inherent in his lover’s position, spitted on his cock, fragile testicles in his palm. As Misha plays, his cock spurts a little more come into the condom.

The Claim turns out to be a surprisingly thoughtless exercise. He’s idly stroking Jared’s newly perked-up dick, rocking just enough against him to get a little pleasant friction on his knot, when it occurs to him that Jared is _his_. And it’s so _easy_ just to bend his neck, apply his mouth where Jared’s neck meets his shoulder, and suck until Jared’s groaning and the skin’s gone beautifully pink when Misha draws back with a tight wet pop.

“Mine,” he whispers.

“Yes,” Jared forces out, sounding half-choked with emotion. His eyes look very big and very bright in the mirror, and he’s smiling this small, serene smile.

Misha opens his mouth and applies his teeth.

Jared screams, but it’s not pain, or it’s not just pain, and he’s coming again, warm little splashes across Misha’s hand.

There’s a long, weird moment where Misha knows without even trying that he physically cannot release the section of Jared’s flesh he’s holding tight between his teeth. That something is happening between them, something instinctive that neither of them can control. Misha comes again, hard, spurting come like crazy, and Jared mewls as if somehow he feels it too.

Then it’s over, he’s drawing back, chest full of a sense of achievement, almost triumph. Jared rubs reverent fingertips over the raw, angry mark Misha’s made, watching it in the mirror like it might do something remarkable. It won’t. Well, nothing visible. It’ll fade away over time and that will be that. But the Claim will remain, and Alphas will sense it, right up until the day Jared dies.

“Not sure whether I want to cry or go ten rounds with Mike Tyson,” Jared says.

Misha snorts and pets him, a little awkwardly now. “Sorry, champ. You kinda just have to sit there until my dick decides it’s done with you.”

“Yeah, I know.” He puffs out a breath that disturbs his bangs. Then he angles himself awkwardly, cranes his neck until they can kiss. It’s lovely, soft, not at all urgent. Misha’s not the only one who could use a shave, and that’s nice, too.

His dick seems to pick up on the suddenly-languid mood, because it’s only a few more minutes before the knot begins to relax. He nudges Jared back up onto all fours, grips the base of his dick to hold the condom in place, and slips gently free as soon as he’s able to do so without effort. Jared doesn’t completely manage to stifle his noise of discomfort.

To Misha’s surprise, he’s feeling unusually energised once he’s dealt with the cleanup and the careful check that he hasn’t done more than the anticipated damage to Jared’s body. He wants to laugh, or run a marathon. Instead, they cuddle, face to face, and Jared looks up at him like he’s something amazing. The kid has never smelled more clearly Omega to him than he does now, wearing his brand new mark. An idea twitches into life in the back of Misha’s mind. _Maybe at Christmas_ , he thinks, with a small and smug smile. He drags Jared closer into his arms, holds him tight, kisses the top of his dark head.

“Misha?” comes a suddenly sleepy voice.

“Mm-hmm?”

“Is it all right if I fall in love with you?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Misha?”

“Yes, Jared?”

“I like your big knotty dick.” He yawns, snuffles in tighter against Misha’s neck, and passes out more or less right away.

 _Huh_ , Misha thinks. _That went well._

***

Thanksgiving goes splendidly. Jared is a huge hit, despite his initial shyness and tendency to trip over his own feet when he’s feeling self-conscious. Jensen, Daneel, and Sebastian take him under their wings, though, and that helps. Sebastian’s the only one who seems to pay any attention to Jared’s claim mark—Misha sees him idly sniffing at it while Jared is randomly sprawled across his lap on the couch—but since those two haven’t met before and the actual damaged skin isn’t visible through Jared’s shirt it doesn’t seem likely Sebastian can tell how very very new that Claim happens to be.

“I like your hubby,” Sasha says, bumping Misha’s shoulder as he’s fetching more drinks. “Someone for you to look up to.” A pause, a piercing expression. “He’s good for you, I think.”

“Don’t I know it. I am one unbelievably lucky fuck, brother mine.” He looks at Jared, who is demonstrating what might be a fight technique but might just as easily be some form of interpretive dance with a stick over by the pool table while Jensen struggles to contain one of his full-body laughs. “He’s like a human ray of sunshine.”

Sasha doesn’t have an answer for that, just a shoulder squeeze and a small smile. Misha beams as he heads back out to join the party.

***

Despite his best intentions to avoid embarrassing extravagance, Misha ends up giving Jared several fairly substantial gifts for Christmas. But the one that means the most to him cost the least, and he saves it until Jared comes padding out of the bathroom in his pyjamas looking clean and pink and wholesome.

“Here,” Misha says, and hands him the small and hastily-wrapped present.

Jared rips into it without a second thought, then frowns as he peers down at the trio of fine Sharpies in assorted colours.

“It’s a poor substitute,” Misha says, stripping off his T-shirt. “Not permanent, not impossible to conceal. But I thought you might enjoy scribbling your own little claim on me.”

Jared’s eyebrows disappear up behind his bangs, and he worries his lower lip with his teeth a moment. “You’re sure?” he says.

“I’m sure. Just don’t take so long we get high on the fumes, okay?”

Jared literally leaps up onto the bed, then pounces on him, Sharpies at the ready. He’s adorable to watch, tongue tip sticking out the corner of his mouth as he frowns in concentration, dragging the wet tip of a pen over Misha’s pec, down in careful curves over his ribs, down to his stomach. It tickles in a way that makes Misha want more, not less.

“ ‘Property of Jared Padalecki’?” he guesses.

“Uh huh. Next I’m gonna sign my name on your ass.”

“Kinky.”

Jared snorts. “Yeah, I’m super-duper-kinky.”

“We’ll see,” Misha muses. “We have time.”

Jared gives him a funny look, then, holding it for several moments before he’s overcome by a shy smile.

***

EPILOGUE: EIGHT MONTHS LATER

The first day of Jared’s first semester as a college freshman dawns cool and red beyond the drapes, but neither of them notices. Too busy fucking. Misha’s arms are just starting to burn from the effort of holding himself up over Jared, whose unbelievably long legs are tangled around him. They’re sweat-soaked and panting, and Jared’s palms remain on Misha’s cheeks in between sloppy, desperate kisses.

The knot has long since forced them down to a mere gentle rocking movement, but they’re well attuned to each other now and that rocking hits all the right spots, stretching Jared in ways that make him groan and tormenting his prostate so that he shudders and moans even now, two orgasms in and close to the end of Misha’s endurance. He’s not expecting Jared to come again, so when he does that’s all it takes for Misha, too. His dick floods out his last reserves of semen in a burst of white-hot pleasure, and by the time he’s recovered the ability to process complex thoughts his knot has loosened enough for him to slip free.

He disposes of the condom on autopilot before returning to collapse onto the bed, pulling Jared into his arms and kissing whatever random parts of him he can easily reach.

“You make me like being an Omega,” Jared says, so completely out of the blue that the mattress seems to lurch alarmingly beneath Misha’s ribs. “All these weird instincts and shit, they make sense when I’m with you. They feel good.”

Misha’s hand trembles a little as he pets his lover. “I know the feeling. So, all set to leap up and face the day?”

Jared groans and attempts to bury his face in Misha’s chest hair. Which is difficult, given how recently he shaved the said chest. “What if I hate being a student again?”

“Then you can drop out, and I’ll only mock you about it for a very reasonable six to eighteen months.” He gets an indignant choking noise and a playful shove for that. “Seriously, Jay, you’ll do fine. You’re bound to love at least one of those zillion subjects you’re signed up for. You’re a smart guy and you work hard and it’ll all be fine. And if not, there’s a whole world out there that doesn’t require college degrees. And I can always put you to work making babies.” The shove for that one is subtly different, Misha thinks. “It’s up to you, Jay. This was your choice. I think it’s still what you want to do. So just swallow down this morning’s nerves and see how it goes.”

“Misha?”

“Mm-hmm?”

“I know I’m—Look, just keep being your awesome self, okay?”

“I’ll do my best. And you do yours.”

By the time they make it out of bed and into the shower, Jared’s habitual good mood is restored and he’s constantly smiling and humming and joking. He really is like a living ray of sunshine arrived to brighten up Misha’s already bright life. One day soon, he’s going to find a way to let Jared know how much he means to him, how much he matters. To have it formal and out there. But right now, he hopes it’s understood.

“You were the weirdest suitor anyone had ever had,” Jared comments, out of nowhere, midway through shampooing his rather longer than average hair. “No one knew what to make of you. Showing up in frayed jeans and work boots! I’m glad you offered for me, man, or I might have had to chase you down and lasso you or something.”

Impossible not to laugh at that image. “Kid, you basically ordered me to offer for you.”

Jared stills, then straightens. “I kinda _did_ , yeah. Awesome.” And he leans down for a quick kiss. “Do the other Alphas tease you for being a pushover?”

A swat on the ass only makes Jared laugh.

“Sweetie, all the other Alphas are jealous of me.”

That shuts him up, at least long enough to rinse his hair clean. “You know how you said—about kids? When I was ready?” Misha nods, and Jared swallows. “I’m not ready, Misha. I don’t know when I will be ready. But I wondered if, maybe, I mean—how would you feel about us maybe getting a dog?”

Misha’s laugh is all joy, and the force of his hug is seriously unwise given how wet and slippery they both are, but they survive it so that’s okay. “That would be wonderful, Jay. I’d love to get a dog with you. And about the kids? I know you have all these expectations weighing you down. But try to forget about that and just think about what you want for our life together, okay? And if you end up deciding kids aren’t for you, that’s okay. And if you end up deciding that we should adopt rather than putting your body through that stress, that’s okay too. I offered for you because I want _you_ , Jared Tristan. Not hypothetical future offspring. Okay?”

Jared scans his face for a moment, then nods once, emphatically.

“Good. Now let’s get this stupid shower over with before we both turn into giant prunes, okay?”

***

A little over four years later, Jared has a degree in architecture, of all things. Misha likes to watch him sitting there at his drafting table beneath the dormer window in their shared upstairs study, planning out other people’s dream homes with great enthusiasm. Right now, he has a mechanical pencil between his teeth, and he’s stroking the head of the mainly-German Shepherd Dog who has managed to get her head onto Jared’s lap despite the huge swell of pregnant belly. On his other side, the sprawled-out Harley beats his tail against the hardwood floor like he wants in on that stroking action but not quite enough to trouble himself to move. Misha’s turtles are much better behaved, but probably only because no one’s paying them very much attention.

“You’ve done all right for yourself,” Sebastian comments, returning from the kitchen with a bottle of wine and two glasses to perch beside Misha on his favourite love seat. (It’s almost certainly the exact same piece of furniture on which they made the baby, but he’s not in the habit of mentioning such tidbits to guests.) “You manage to _exude_ happiness from every pore, and yet without seeming smug.”

“I can try harder, if you like.”

Sebastian clucks his tongue and pours the wine. “I’m glad you have Jared in your life, Mish. Used to be far too easy for you to be solitary and forget to live.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that ever again. Solitary just ain’t gonna happen.”

They look around at the pregnant architect, the dogs, the turtles, the parrot in her cage. “Yup,” Sebastian says. And then, tipping his glass, “Salut.”

“Salut.”

“By the way, did you have any first-hand knowledge of that school before you pointed me at it?”

“Not really,” Sebastian replies, so airily that Misha’s sure he’s lying. There might be a story there worth teasing out, he supposes. Not that it really matters anymore why or how he found Jared. The fact is, they _did_ find each other. And there’s no way either of them will ever let go.

***END***


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